Toby Keith The Critic song lyrics

Tell it like it is

He gets up real early on his morning drive

Down to the office for his 9 to 5

He drives a '94 twotone economy car

Loves to tell the local bands down at the bar

That he's the critic

Yea, I can hook you up

I know everybody in the business

He flunked junior high band

He couldn't march in time

He tried to write a song once

But he couldn't make it rhyme

He learned two or three chords

On a pawn shop guitar

He just never quite had what it took to be a star

So he's a critic

I work for The Gazette man

I got a real job

He did a five star column on a band you've never heard

He did a bluegrass review without an unkind word

He thought it was time to ask his boss for a raise

His boss said 'I can't even tell if anybody is even reading your page'

Yea

So he thought, and he thought a little more

He caught a young hot star headed into town

And then he hid behind his typewriter and gunned the boy down

Here come the letters, the emails, the faxes

They raised him to 20, 000 dollars after taxes

He's a happy critic

Yea, he's rollin' in the dough

Man I could do this forever, this is easy

They are all reading my column

Please don't tell my mom

That I write the music column for The Gazette

She still thinks that I play piano down at the cathouse

Let's get funky with this now boys

Play it on

Come on Shannon

There's old Biff jumpin' in

Glenn's laying it down

Come on Shannon

My man Steve

Man my fingers are getting tired

Y'all gonna have to hurry here

This snappin' thing's wearin' me out

There's old Shannon

I guess he was on a coffee break

They're gonna love you

'Cause they already love me

Yea, it's the critic